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Chapter Twenty-Three


Nick

Fate has got this great way of kicking me in the balls to get my attention and stop me from doing things I shouldn’t do. And I guess maybe it takes a swift kick to get my attention sometimes. I’m not the best at divining the smartest choices in life. This situation being the perfect example. I had every single reason in the entire fucking world not to tell Jaymie what I was feeling about her - every reason - and yet it took Fate bending the laws of physics and gravity in order to make me stop.

I laid on the gravel, my ass sinking into foul smelling mud, staring up at the clouds overhead, the rain falling directly into my eyeballs, blinking in surprise at the sudden drop. Jaymie suddenly appeared over me, her eyes wide and hair all stringy from the rain. “Shit, are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. I slowly pulled myself to a sitting position, feeling the fabric of my suit hit my skin all muddy and disgusting. I pushed myself up from the ground, slipped on the mud, and my ass hit the puddle again. “Jesus H. Christ,” I muttered.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jaymie asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m just probably bruised a little maybe,” I said, “Mostly in the pride. And probably also my ass,” I added as I actually managed to get to my feet. I ran my hand across my ass and the mud and gravel fell away thick and heavy to make a brilliant fwapp sound when it hit the earth. I looked up at the crossbar of the swings. One of the chains had snapped at the very top and now the thing hung sideways, the second chain laying in a coil on the ground beside where Fate had dumped me. The ground looked like someone had been making snow angels in the winter in the mud.

Jaymie reached back and ran her hand across my backside, helping to push the mud off the fabric. “This is your stage suit, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yeah. Eddie’s gonna castrate me for wearing it out,” I muttered.

“Eddie won’t castrate you,” Jaymie said, “Your penis is a huge contributor to his financial success.”

I gave her a dirty smile, “My penis is a huge contributor, hmm?”

Jaymie raised her eyebrows, “Well I see you aren’t too bruised in the pride by your fall,” she said.

“I’m resilient is all,” I replied.

Actually, I was trying like hell to make her forget what we’d been talking about before the swing broke and I fell into the mud to begin with. I didn’t want her asking me what I’d been about to say because there wasn’t much space for backtracking and Fate clearly did not approve of me telling Jaymie about the feelings that were starting to form and stir around in there. And Fate knew more than I did about what all would happen.

Suddenly, a weird sort of sad feeling fell over me. If Fate didn’t want me to tell Jaymie that I was starting to fall in love with her, that meant that Fate didn’t want Jaymie to know, which meant that Fate knew we wouldn’t end up together, which meant that I probably wasn’t gonna get better. I was gonna die and Fate knew it and Fate was like shut the fuck up boy before you hurt her.

I didn’t wanna hurt her.

“Let’s go back to the hotel,” I said.

“Okay.” Jaymie walked over to the jungle gym and collected her shoes from where she’d left them, holding them by the straps.

I kicked the broken swing when she wasn’t looking and the chain swung a little in reaction. I felt frustrated and angry. Suddenly the lights hanging over the streets as we walked back toward the hotel weren’t beautiful, they were just lighting up dirty store front windows and the rain was no longer playful just wet and cold and I was muddy and my hair had fallen flat onto my forehead. Jaymie trotted along silently beside me, maybe she could feel the tension in me or something.

We made it back to the hotel and ducked through a crowd of fans, who looked at me with bewildered expressions on their faces at the muddy clothes I was wearing. They were apparently so surprised to see me looking so dismal and gross that they didn’t really ask for pictures or autographs (who wants to admit the one time they get to see me that I looked like shit?). Jaymie stepped into the elevator with me and when the mirrored door closed she said, “Oh Jesus I look like hell.”

I looked at her reflection, “You look better than me.”

Jaymie laughed. “Even covered in mud, Nick, nobody looks better than you.”

I sighed.

“You sure you’re okay?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

Jaymie looked down at her shoes. She waited a moment, then slipped her hand over and into mine. I squeezed it, though part of me wanted to drop it, to keep her from coming closer to me. I felt like a dangerous drug that she was taking, like something she craved but shouldn’t have.

In the hotel room I went in the bathroom immediately. I closed the door and stood, leaning against the mirror, staring into my own eyes as I undid my tie. I’d been lower than low in the past, I’d hit the rock bottom of everything, and still I’d never felt as shitty as I did right then. I turned on the faucet and splashed water on my face. As I did, the bathroom door creaked open and Jaymie came in. She’d taken off her dress, and all she had on was matching black lingerie. She stood behind me, her cheek pressed to my shoulder, staring into the mirror alongside me. She looked up at me, then she brought her arms around me and ran her hands up my arms. I felt her body press against my mud-coated back.

“You’re gonna get all muddy.”

“Oh well,” she said. She kissed the back of my neck, right at my hairline and peeled my jacket off me, sliding it to the floor. She turned me around so my back was to the sink and started on the buttons of my shirt.

“Jaymie,” I said quietly, “I don’t feel much like -- you know -- right now.”

Jaymie stared up at me, “We don’t have to fuck,” she said.

The words sounded harsh. We’d said it that way for years and years and that was the first time that the word had sounded wrong. I closed my eyes. It felt so weird, like I was being mentally abducted by aliens. Could all these feelings be because of the brain tumor?

I gripped the sink as she continued to unbutton my shirt and push it off my shoulders.

“We’ll just get you cleaned off,” she said.

I nodded.

My shirt joined the jacket on the floor and she undid my belt and pulled it out of the loops on my pants, then unbuttoned and unzipped those and let them fall. She turned away and got the shower running, sticking her hand under the stream to adjust the temperature, then she grabbed my hand and I stepped into the shower. She grabbed a washcloth from the shelf over the toilet and stepped in, too, still in her lingerie. She started gently wiping my back with the cloth, and I felt like she was washing away the entire world. I pressed my face against the cool tiled wall and lost myself in the feeling of her softly scrubbing my skin, down my spine and over the blades of my shoulders and down my arms, my biceps, my forearms… Then she turned me and I looked down into her eyes, her hair hanging wet and thick around her face and over her chest, where the water beaded as it crawled across her tan skin. She pushed the cloth over my chest and down to my abs.

I still didn’t want sex exactly. But I wanted her. There was some kind of difference in my head, something that I didn’t know how to explain. I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against hers, pulling her against me so her skin met mine and I just held her there, feeling her be so close that the water that cascaded over us couldn’t even make it’s way between us.

I dunno how long we stayed in there, making out under the water. But I could’ve stayed there forever.





Jaymie

I woke up the next morning and my eyes took a second to adjust to the sunlight in the room.

I felt the bed shift and looked over. Nick - a non-love-confessing version of him - was sitting up on the edge of the bed, a pair of camo cargo shorts and a grey t-shirt covering him. He was bent forward, tying his sneakers. He glanced back. “Hey you’re awake,” he said.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” I said.

Nick leaned back and took my hand and placed a kiss on my middle knuckle, smiling. “I didn’t wanna wake you up, you looked too pretty sleeping.” He sat up again, “I gotta meet the guys. We got a rehearsal this morning for the show tonight.”

“Oh cool.”

“After, if you want, we can get lunch. I know this place.”

I nodded.

Nick smiled. He stood up and grabbed his phone and wallet from the table, then bent to root around in one of the suitcases for a second. He pulled on his favorite Tampa Bay Buccaneers cap. A little ducktail of hair stuck out of the hole in the back. I didn’t bother telling him. It looked too adorable.

“I’ll only be gone a couple hours,” he said. “Feel free to order room service and stuff.”

“Okay.”

“Bye babe,” he said, and he headed for the door.

“Bye,” I answered.

Once Nick had left, I looked around the hotel room for the room service menu and called for some breakfast and coffee and then opened up my computer. I opened my email inbox. I had several bits of junk mail in there. I deleted those, saved a coupon from Bath & Body Works, and one from Forever 21. I had my weekly FitBit report, and a notice from iTunes telling me everything that was coming out soon. And an email from my dad.

I clicked on that, my heart racing. What in hell would he be emailing me for? I wondered.


Jaymie,
Pilates has asked me to contact you to see if you want to take Rusty. We will not be able to keep him at the house much longer as we have recently discovered that Pilates is allergic to animal hair. If you can’t take him we’ll figure out something else. Please respond within 24-hours.
Thank you, hope all is well,
Your Father.



I blinked at the email in surprise, then looked at the date and my heart leaped. I flung myself to the nightstand to grab my phone. He’d sent the email two days before, but I’d been so caught up with everything with Nick and Brian and the date and all that since we’d got to Germany that I hadn’t even checked my email. No way in hell could he get rid of Rusty. Rusty had been mine and Daniel’s dog and he was so old, nobody would ever rescue him from a pound…

My hands shook as the phone rang.

“Hello?”

It was Pilates. Why was she answering my father’s phone? I wondered.

“Hey,” I said, “Is my Dad there?”

“Who’s this?” Pilates asked.

Fucking hell, like she didn’t know. “It’s Jaymie,” I said, annoyed.

“Oh hello Jaymie!” she trilled, like she was happy to hear from me, like we were long lost friends. I wanted to reach through the phone and throttle her. “Jim,” she called, covering the mouth of the phone, “Your daughter is on the phone.”

I gritted my teeth.

“Jaymie?” my father’s voice came over the line.

“Dad,” I said, “I just got your email about Rusty… I’m sorry, I’m in Germany, I didn’t get a chance to check my email until today. Don’t get rid of him or anything. I’ll be home really soon and I’ll come for him the second I get off the plane.” I had no clue what I was gonna do with him. I couldn’t picture him living in that little apartment over Nick’s garage with me. But it’d have to do until I could figure something out.

“What in hell are you doing in Germany?” he asked.

I didn’t know what to say. I tried to piece together a legitimate answer, but nothing much came to mind. Finally I said, “My boyfriend took me with him on a business trip.”

“Seriously?” he sounded shocked. Probably more about the word boyfriend than any of the rest of it.

“Yes,” I said, “So I can’t come to get Rusty until I get back, but please, please just don’t get rid of him. I’ll take him, Dad.”

My father was quiet for a solid minute. “Well when I didn’t hear from you, I figured you didn’t want him --” he began.

My blood went cold. “Where is he?” I demanded.

“We brought him to the shelter,” my father said. “Downtown.”

“Which shelter?” I demanded. I grabbed my laptop and typed in shelters in Los Angeles into Google. The results were all for battered women and the homeless. I refined my search. Animal shelters in Los Angeles.

“I don’t know the name of it,” he said testily. “Look, Jaymie, now isn’t a good time we’re in the middle of a --”

“How the fuck could you just get rid of my dog?” I demanded, “How could you do that to me? You know what Rusty means to me… what he should mean to you. He’s a part of the family. He’s the only fucking part of the family that seems to give a damn about me anymore, at that,” I snapped. My throat felt raw. There were so fucking many animal shelters in LA, I felt dizzy looking at the list. Over seventy. SEVENTY. “He could be fucking anywhere!”

“Don’t use that kind of language with me,” my father said, angry. “I gave you time to respond before I got rid of him, it’s not my fault that you’re too busy gallivanting across the globe to check your email.”

Anger swelled up in my gut even more than it had at the sound of Pilates’ voice. Not a word to reassure me that he gave a damn about me, to correct me that the dog wasn’t the only family I had left. “Fuck you,” I said, and I pressed the end call button with so much pressure I’m surprised the screen didn’t snap beneath my fingers. I stared hopelessly at the list of shelters. “God fucking damn it,” I cried and I covered my eyes, my heart heavy.

I dialed Nick’s phone number.